


Toe To Heel [Original]

by HoneyFire



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Curious Thomas, M/M, Why did I do this again, greenie!minho, minho is so cute, omfg this is so cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyFire/pseuds/HoneyFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho reveals his memories of the first few days he spent in the Glade. Turns out, he wasn't always that great of a runner.</p><p>Note: Do NOT, I repeat DO NOT read this one-shot unless you like to cringe. I've posted a newer, better version for it and am only leaving this version up because some people may prefer it. Continue at your own risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toe To Heel [Original]

They both connected, sending the last monster plummeting to it's death. Minho scrambled up to his feet, pasty white and sweaty. He looked at Thomas with different eyes than before, as if WICKED had replaced him with a doppelganger. Thomas blinked at him from his spot on the ground for a minute, confused by the Keeper's reaction. He had expected Minho to do something crazy, but instead, he just stood there.

"Minho? You okay?" Thomas timidly inquired, wiping the sweat from his face.

"I should have never..." The Asian leaned against one of the Maze walls and crumbled to the ground. "I was just a Greenie."

"What are you talking about?" Thomas was confused.

Minho gulped and looked at him,"Nevermind."

"No." Thomas's newfound bold side shocked him,"What are you talking about?"

Minho weakly glared at him,"I'm talking when I first became a Runner. I should have never become a runner. All it's done is gotten Gladers killed, that's all it's ever done." 

Thomas came closer to him and sat cross legged in front of him,"What was it like when you were first brought up?"

A lopsided smile spread across Minho's face,"You would have never thought it was me."

\- - -

The elevator began to raise. Jarring the barrels of supplies and a sleeping boy. The boy shot up, vomiting something just as quickly. He looked around, let out a frightened scream when he saw something in the darkness. Eventually, in his drugged state, he dragged himself over into the corner and huddled up with the barrels. The elevator, old and rusty, roughly stopped, and two doors opened above him. The boy tucked himself under some of the bags out of fear.

"There's nothing but supplies in here." A voice said.

"Must be a fluke." Said another.

"Newt what are you doing?" The first asked.

"Checking it out, go back to work, Alby." 'Newt' announced.

There was the sound of footsteps, and somebody jumped down into the elevator. The boy curled into the bag even more. A hand lifted the bag off of his head and touched his face.

"Hey there." The blond, 'Newt', smiled, thumbing the soft skin beside the boy's eye soothingly,"You don't need to be afraid."

The boy, decided that he already liked this blond kid, with his weird accent that seemed so familiar. He didn't understand why.

"What's your name?" The boy froze. What was his name? Why couldn't he remember?

"I-I don't-" He shuddered at the sound of his own voice,"I don't remember. Why can't I remember?!"

'Newt', pet his hair and smiled a little bit,"Don't worry, Greenie. You'll remember soon enough, we all come up not able to remember anything. Your name will come back in a few days. Anyways, my name is Newt, and welcome to the Glade."

The boy looked at Newt at sighed, he liked Newt. So, slowly, he stood up, his legs shook and refused to take him far though. Newt caught him and pulled him back to his feet.

"Havin' a bloody tough time standing there, huh?" Newt helped him out of the elevator,"Don't worry bout a thing. I'll help until you can do it on your own."

The boy found that he liked walking, but he was so weak he could barely keep himself balanced for long. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't remember how to manage his abnormally long legs, or maybe it was just that something was wrong with him. He could believe either right now.

It took him three days to learn to walk on his own. He and Newt had been hanging out in a room built in the middle of the woods, nothing inside, just a room. So far he hadn't remembered his name, hadn't met any other Gladers but Alby and Frypan, hadn't walked on his own yet either.

Right now, Newt had left to go deal with Gally causing problems, so the boy was all alone. He was holding onto a chair in the room, holding himself up on his weakened legs. Carefully, he took a tiny step forward, letting go of the chair. His legs shook just a little, and they felt weird, but he found that he could keep himself up just a little bit more. He took the next careful step forward, then the next. His legs moved diligently, nimble and careful of each and every step, like a deer in a forest.

The boy smiled at himself,"Hey, I'm doing it!"

He walked circles around the room, finding those easier than pacing one line, but he soon figured out how to turn sharply and not throw himself back on the ground. Next, he tried jumping, now with his newfound ability, he landed slightly off balance, but it was good.

He heard somebody opening the door, and jumped in surprise, this time, falling on his butt on the dirt. Newt emerged from the other side of the door, and laughed."Sorry, did I scare you?"

The boy shook his head no, but smiled to himself, it was his little secret. For the next few days, he spent learning to walk and jump and jog. Found that it was his favorite thing to do, to move himself in such ways and move his feet like a ballet dancer, but he wanted to go faster.

One day, he heard somebody outside of the little room he was in. He figured it was Newt, since he was the only person he had met so far. Nothing came to his mind to even consider that there were still other people there with him. He and Newt were not the only ones around. 

He was jumping and pacing around, legs moving in an odd gait that seemed so unnatural. Newt had pointed out that he tended to walk toe-to-heel, and that he would need to walk heel-to-toe to make it around faster. 

The door clanged open, the boy didn't bother looking, just laughed,"Hey Newt."

When there was no reply, he looked up, only to see a tall man with dark skin staring wide eyed at him.

"Who are you?" He demanded, jabbing his finger at the boy,"What are you doing here?"

The boy was so stunned he was speechless, until the man walked forward and roughly snatched his arm to drag him out of the room in the woods. The boy fumbled around, twisting and fighting his grip until he slipped free. 

"Hey!" The man barked again. 

The boy, startled and afraid, turned and took off at an odd jog. He looked at his feet, then to the guy behind him, who wasn't arms length away. He forced himself to relax his body and focus ahead. In return, his limbs picked up their pace, slammed the ground heel-to-toe like Newt had shown him. His breath came out shallow and fast like a dog on a hot summer day. The boy was figuring it out. With surprising ease he pushed faster against the barrier limiting his movements. It broke.

Minho.

Suddenly he shot forward. His breathing fell, deep and heavy, like a racehorse pulling ahead into the lead. He burst into a clearing and kept going, mind wrapping around the word. His name, it was his name. His name, his own little keepsake. He remembered his legs beating the ground, thought back to the things it reminded him of. He remembered being on the back of a horse, nothing of what the horses looked like, who he was with or where he was, but he remembered. The horse moving like a tremendous machine, sounding like a freight train as he sprinted across the track.

Now he was the horse, and the man behind him was the opponent. So were the other men coming out on both sides of him-wait, other men? Minho looked at them, saw the curiosity in some, the hatred in others. He spotted Newt coming out from where he had been leaned against a wall, running slow and panting. Newt would save him. Newt meant safety. 

Minho took another breath and fired onward, focusing in on how his legs moved and moving the muscle just that much quicker. The boys behind him disappeared, some tailing, but were left in the dirt. Minho slowed a bit when Newt was close enough and jumped the British man in a big hug.

"I remember!" He cried out, excited,"I'm Minho!" Newt hugged him tight, not saying anything until two Glader's pulled Minho away and held him back.

"Newt, who is this?" The man from earlier asked Newt, a stern look in his eyes.

"This is..Minho." Newt tested the new name out carefully, tongue curling around the 'N'. Minho struggled against the two Gladers. "He came up in the box, and he couldn't walk very well and was scared of meeting the others so I helped him relearn and stayed with him in the back shed."

"Alby!" It was the boy named Gally that Newt talked about,"What's your call? The cliff?"

With one low growl, Minho tore himself out from the two Gladers, and when they went to snatch him back up, fist met bone, a warning effort that Alby disapproved of.

"Two days in the cell, water and bread, after that, he becomes the first Runner, he has quick feet, and if he's stupid, then he's gone." 

Two days was long enough for Minho to change to a new person. He decided he didn't trust these guys. Except for Newt and this guy named Frypan, who brought him little treats from time to time during his stay in the cell. He decided it was best not to let them know that they could hurt him, and focused his energies on being a Runner from then on.

\- - -

"So that's how you became a Runner?" Thomas turned his head to the side like a confused puppy.

Minho nodded,"It was a punishment, but I kind of love doing this everyday, just wish that there was something new."

Thomas rose to is feet, watching as Minho did the same,"How did you walk when you first relearned?" Minho paced circles around him, toe-to-heel, looking odd at such a gait. 

"Like this."

"You look like a ballerina." Minho couldn't help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Told you it was shitty.


End file.
